Our Mistakes
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: Sometimes the mistakes of our youth never fully go away. But that doesn't mean that we have to face them alone. Snape/OC oneshot takes place during Harry's first year of Hogwarts and follows canon.


**Our Mistakes**

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Professor Isic Blackblood was a woman of many virtues. Now to most, this line of thought would have been attributed to her pleasant looks and easy smile; but it was in fact another achievement that made her unique to her peers. Having become a teacher at Hogwarts at the tender age of 18, Isic had made a name for herself; having risen above all expectations (including her own). She had slid happily into the position of Professor for the school's Mythical Creatures class and had never looked back.

Now after almost seven years of teaching, the woman could honestly say that she had found her true calling. After having been lost to deception as a youth, coming back to Hogwarts had been the perfect balm- for the past remained buried deep and her heart had slowly began to heal. Day by day she grew a little lighter- being wiped clean from her past mistakes- so that all that remained of it was a faded tattoo and a shadow within her mind. . .

. . . Until _now. . ._

Currently Miss Blackblood sat at the Head Table, while the Head Master addressed the students for the new school year. The first years had just been sorted into their houses, and the teachers had watched in interest as the children took their respective seats. . . And all the while, Isic's forearm had begun to itch. It wasn't a normal, mildly bothersome itch- but a fiery sting that continued to burn until it was almost too much to bear. At first she tried to ignore it, scratching the irritated skin through the cloth of her teaching robes; but all too soon it overwhelmed her. Silently, she stood from the table and exited out the back entryway, so as not to disturb Dumbledore's announcements. She forced her strides to remain calm until she was out of view; then she rushed away.

She had intended to go back to her private chambers to examine her accursed arm, but as the itch became downright painful she cried out and came to a full stop. Leaning against the corridor wall, Isic yanked her sleeve up to look at her arm.

Her Death Eater Tattoo was still intact, though the skin around it had turned a horrific red; the skull and serpent seemingly highlighted by a border of blood and despair.

Isic stared listlessly at the dark ink as it began to blur- marking the tears that fell from her light eyes. She didn't cry because of the physical pain it was causing her, but from the remorse that flooded back as darker memories once more began to creep. She had been young and naïve when she had been recruited as a Death Eater (her Pureblood family having made her a practical target). She would have refused to follow him, had it not been for the Dark Lord's threats towards her loved ones. But in the end she had joined, like so many others, despite the fact that she had never believed in Voldemort's cause and reign of terror. But no matter what she had _felt_ her mistake was one that would always mark her, both spiritually and physically, till the end of her days.

Isic held her right forearm gingerly, as she fought to clear her head and figure out how to deal with the burning sensation. Though as she stared at the irritated area she was admittedly at a loss. In all the years she had had her Dark Mark, it had never reacted like this. Never felt quite so intense or dark . . . except for the day Voldemort had tried to kill the Boy Who Lived. . .

"He wishes to return," said a monotone voice, making the woman jump in surprise. She had believed herself to be alone, but it seemed that someone had followed her from the Great Hall.

With lightning speed, Isic pushed her sleeve back down, before she turned her head to regard her fellow Professor. Her heart thudded faster than before as she took in the obsidian eyes and telltale nose of Severus Snape.

He stood only a foot or so away, his face its usual expression of indifference, as he gazed down at her with unreadable orbs. His dark robes hung about him like his own personal wisp of smoke, bringing both dread and curiosity to all who beheld him.

"Who wishes to return, Professor Snape," she inquired brightly, faking happiness and innocence as she fought to brush her stray tears away.

"Don't cover it up," he snapped in reply, making her false expression crack. "You'll only make it worse."

"I don't know what you're talking about-" she began to retort, but when he took a step closer she stopped. Their height difference wasn't that great, but within that moment he seemed to tower over her hunched form.

"Enough," he drawled, his tone a deep whisper that left no room for argument, before he continued. "Show me your arm, Professor Blackblood."

Isic's brow furrowed slightly as the burning continued to torment her, but gave no sign of complying. "I have nothing to show you, Professor Snape. . . It was nice of you to come see if I was alright, but there really was no need. I just need to be by myself at the moment. . ."

"Solitude will not assist you," he countered impatiently.

"I don't _need_ assistance, sir. I'm fine."

Snape's lip curled upward, followed by a curse of annoyance, "Oh by Merlin's beard woman!" Then before she could move to further protest, the Potion's Master had grabbed her arm and rolled up her sleeve. Isic's mind went blank with fright as he gazed down at her shameful mark. No. His expression was one of calculation as he studied her tattoo, before he reached his free hand into his robes. As he pulled a potion bottle out, Isic's eyes grew wide in surprise, before she lifted her eyes to meet his.

He regarded her stoically before he began to pour the contents of the bottle over her inflamed flesh, making her hiss in pain. It flared up more intensely than before . . . and then it faded into a dull throbbing.

Isic breathed a shaky breath as she was granted the reprieve. "How did you know?. . ."

Snape, never taking his eyes away from her dark mark, drawled, ". . . Perhaps you are not the only one who made a mistake, Miss Blackblood."

Understanding slowly began to creep into the woman's mind as she studied his solemn face, before tears once more formed in her eyes. He _knew_. . . He knew because he had made the same mistake that she had. . . He had been tainted and reformed; broken and secluded. . .

"Does it ever get better," she whispered, making the lines near his eyes soften almost imperceptibly.

"I do not know," he said truthfully. "But it dwindles . . . with time."

Isic watched as Severus lifted his own sleeve, showing an equally red Dark Mark, that he poured the remaining amount of potion onto. His face remained without expression as his mark sizzled and then began to heal- and Isic felt her heart go out to him. All this time she had assumed that Professor Snape was a man that was purposefully removed from the world . . . but it seemed that perhaps he had been forced into such an action due to past events.

In all her days as a Death Eater Isic had not once seen Snape's face among the ranks, but now she wished that she had; wished they could have helped each other before now.

"Our marks were burning because of the Boy, weren't they?"

"Yes. . . It would seem that the Dark Lord was made aware of Potter's presence as soon as he was sorted."

The woman shook her head as she recalled seeing the Potter boy being placed into Gryffindor, before she had rushed from the Great Hall. He was just a first year; an innocent little boy. . . But it seemed that Voldemort was still aware of him.

"I thought he was dead . . ." Isic whispered, referring to the Dark Lord.

"You were mistaken," Snape murmured, before he lowered the sleeve of his robe again. He grew still as he looked down upon the young Professor.

Isic Blackblood's heart felt heavy, though in that moment she was also surprised by a wave of gratitude and relief. For so many years she had been alone with her shame . . . but now, she had someone who understood. Even if he wasn't prone to sharing what was on his mind.

"Thank you, Severus." Then, she leaned up to place a soft kiss to his cheek, causing him more than a little bewilderment as she pulled away. "I owe you one."

Isic then took her opportunity to leave, turning on her heel and departing from the corridor. Though long after she had left, the woman could still feel the obsidian eyes of Severus Snape following her as she returned to her chambers for the night.

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 _ **A/N:**_ This was a commission for a very sweet lady over on Deviantart (SuzuOngaku) who wanted a story about Snape and her HP OC Miss Isic Blackblood.

It was a very fun story to write, though originally I was a bit scared to try. After Mr. Rickman's recent passing I was afraid I wouldn't be able to write him well. But I feel like he spoke for himself in this story. I hope you guys enjoyed the story!

 _ **~Lyn**_


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